


A Medical Exception

by Meilan_Firaga



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 18:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14899716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/pseuds/Meilan_Firaga
Summary: The dust has settled, everything's been put to rights, and Tony knows exactly how to celebrate.





	A Medical Exception

**Author's Note:**

  * For [humanveil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/gifts).



The dust of the (second) final battle with Thanos hadn’t quite finished settling yet. There was, in fact, a mild cloud of dust still swirling at the feet of the heroes involved, though they weren’t all aware that their counterparts were in similar situations. The battle plan, of course, was all very complex. There was restoration to be had, some mild time travel, a few introductions, and basically enough drama to cover summer blockbusters for the next decade. Select pairs and groups of those ‘fighting the good fight’ had been split off to handle different parts of the situation. That was how Doctor Stephen Strange came to be standing in the penthouse of the recently sold (to a shell corporation that the US government couldn’t trace back to Iron Man, but that was a story for another time) but still vacant former Stark Tower in New York City with Tony Stark.

“Alright,” Tony called, clapping his hands together, as the nano tech for his suit melted back into the glowing beacon on his chest. “That’s it. Evil defeated, stones safely separated. Time for a celebratory blow job.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “Looking to piss off your bride-to-be so soon after saving the world?” He shrugged off the Cloak of Levitation and settled down at the bottom of a staircase. It was lucky, really, that his hands shook due to nerve damage. He had a ready made excuse instead of admitting that he was so shaky because he genuinely hadn’t expected to be alive.

“Uh, excuse you, Copperfield, but I don’t remember saying anything about me being on the receiving end of said blow job. Pepper’s a bit more lenient when it comes to giving.” Actually, Pepper was pretty lenient all around, but if he led with that they’d probably bicker over who was going to be doing the giving, and he had plans. Tony kicked off his sneakers and padded across the bare floors. “Something about not wanting to deprive the world of the joyful experience of having my mouth too busy to keep talking.” He pressed one hand against what appeared to be a section of solid wall. After a brief hum of electricity a square of wall next to his hand slid back to reveal a collection of bottles and rocks glasses. “You want a drink? I feel like this is a good time to drink.”

“I find it hard to believe that the woman who runs Stark Industries would be so willing to share,” Stephen quipped. Part of him understood that he should be protesting this for literally any other reason than Pepper Potts, but he just didn’t have the energy to deny his interest in the suggestion. 

Tony appeared, settling on the step at his side and passing over a generous glass of scotch. “You’d be surprised. Apparently I’m too much for one person to have to put up with.” There was a touch of bitterness in his tone, though it was quickly pushed away. “All to the good, really. I suck at monogamy. I notice you’re not saying you wouldn’t be amenable.”

“I clearly remember disintegrating,” Stephen admitted quietly, tipping back the scotch. He hadn’t had such expensive liquor since just after his accident, and he’d been more prone to chugging than enjoying it at the time. The mouthful of amber liquid was the best he’d ever tasted. “Ill-advised but life affirming sexual liaisons have a certain appeal right now.”

“Now we’re talking.” Tony drained his own glass in record time and leaned forward to set it at the foot of the stairs. “As the two men with clearly superior facial hair on the winning side of this disaster I feel it is our duty to make that facial hair touch. Preferably with tongue.”

Stephen snorted around another mouthful of scotch. He set his own glass aside while it was still mostly full before turning to the man beside him. “Hard to argue with that logic,” he muttered, sliding one hand into the short hair at the nape of Tony’s neck.

There was no gentleness or pretense in the kiss that followed. Their teeth clacked together. Tongues tangled in violent desperation. Tony’s hands fisted in the front of Stephen’s robes as he hauled the sorcerer closer, the two of them balanced precariously on the unforgiving step. Coarse facial hair rasped against sensitive skin on both sides, sure to leave angry red spots in its wake. Stephen fisted one hand in Tony’s hair and clutched at the smaller man’s waist with the other. They couldn’t seem to get close enough to one another.

With a frustrated growl Tony pushed and tugged until he managed to settle himself on Stephen’s lap, one knee on either side of the other man’s hips. He ground his hips down, moaning into Stephen’s mouth as their erections pressed together. The doctor wrapped one arm around Tony’s lower back before he tore their mouths apart. His lips blazed a trail across Tony’s jaw before working their way down his throat. Tony groaned, losing what rhythm he’d established with his rolling hips.

“Jesus, doc,” he whimpered, his voice thready. “Keep that up and you’re going to distract me from my plan.” He pushed himself back--fighting hard not to lose his resolve when Strange actually  _ growled _ in wordless protest--and rearranged them both until he was kneeling between Stephen’s spread legs. He set to work on the belts and ties at Stephen’s waist, willing himself not to be distracted by the way Stephen’s hands kept wandering through his hair and over his shoulders. “Just how many layers are you wearing, anyway?”

“I told you,” Stephen insisted, sounding absolutely  _ wrecked _ , “it’s a uniform.”

Finally, Tony finished with the pants and tugged them down over the doctor’s hips. “What, does magic have shitty interactions with elastic or something?” He didn’t give Stephen a chance to answer. Instead, he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the head of the other man’s cock. Stephen groaned as Tony set to work, one of his hands coming to rest in his hair while the other reached out to curl around the edge of the step. 

It didn’t take very long. It had been an exceedingly long day and, apocalyptic events aside, Stephen hadn’t done much dating since he moved into the New York Sanctum. All too soon, Stephen’s hips left the step completely, his thighs shaking as Tony swallowed every drop. He panted for a moment while his heart rate calmed before hauling Tony up to straddle his lap once more. Their next kiss was slow and deliberate, and Stephen could taste himself on Tony’s tongue. When he finally pulled away he pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of Tony’s nose before quickly flipping them so the billionaire found himself sprawled on the steps.

“Whoa, there,” Tony gasped as his back hit the stairs. That was probably going to be a bruise tomorrow--not that he’d be able to tell it apart from all the other bruises. “I’ve only got the hall pass for the giving, remember?”

Stephen leveled a playful gaze at him while he settled himself on his knees. “It’s my professional,  _ medical _ opinion that an exception should be made for extenuating post-apocalyptic circumstances.” He winked as his hands went for Tony’s belt. “I’ll take full responsibility. Even write her a note.”

“Well, as long as I’m getting a doctor’s note. Carry on.”


End file.
